corrupt

No Angel

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Stitched wings

Attached to frail bones

Darkened eyes

Lifeless as stone

Halo teetering

By uneven horns

Once a smile

Before being born

No color shown

Pallet a pasty pale

Never any sunshine

In a world so stale

Lips crusted over

From the words unspoken

Corrupted mind

In a soul that’s broken

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The Plight of Virtue by Temptation (a dialogue)

Reighns supreme in the surreal 
night dreams inside , running wild fearing 
no living thing. Once again, into the 
wildernesse stark clad with 
ravenous eyes and wreckless.

 It is then that she appeared to him.

Alone in the living forest black 
night shade and wonderment.
Bewilderment rushe forthe o'r 
his braine and gaze her visage in 
amazement.

A slight figure, had she...with a 
graceful feminine beauty delicate 
and wholly woman, with a feline glow
about the eyes. whilst ample bosom 
heaved forth with each passing breathe
between the fullness of her lips
as if to hide the sharpnesse of her teeth.
as she spake:

I know all that you are, were and ever will be....
A courtier and merchant marine from  Great City
, now on dispatch by the 
Royal Command 
Loyal and honest and respected by man....said she 

And woman alike, m' lady.....said he 
Your fairest enchauntresse, who live in the tree
like a siren, perhaps but more serpentine...
why ...pray tell bespeake you of me
     ( but interrupted by she)

Speak not-now, my good man,
Ventured Far, you have into
this treacherous land ...Too soon
you will be my Lover and 
impregnate me so once more 
life flows mortal in my grey veins.

Slay thee, rotten harlot of these woods ...said he
with conviction
Nought with your tempts to sully 
and corrupt my intention
Not your breast or your tongue to swive
sacred Is, as my Flesh alive

Then upon YOUR flesh I will dine! ....said she
lunging forthe
with lionesse force in strike

and devoured this man 
with effortlesse strenghte and 
swallowed his bones 
  -Oh what creatures exist
that stand in our path 
on all walks of life 
they come unexpected 
but for the sake of your seed
march forthe with protection.
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Peace

Solitude is peace.

 

You don’t have to listen to others.

 

When you’re alone,

 

You can shut out humanity’s corruption.

 

 

 

Nightfall holds no meaning.

 

If you’re at peace, let be.

 

Sunlight holds no meaning.

 

If you’re at peace, let be.

 

 

 

How peaceful it is to be alone.

 

To be alone is to meditate.

 

To meditate is to see truth.

 

To see truth is to be at peace.

 

 

 

You don’t have to listen to others.

 

A family isn’t needed for peace.

 

The light that lives inside,

 

You’ll see it even better when alone.

 

 

 

Reside alone with only the light.

 

With the light by your side,

 

You will feel no loneliness,

 

Only solitude, only peace.

 

 

 

If you seek the light,

 

You won’t find it in people.

 

If you seek the dark,

 

Finding the light will be easy.

 

 

 

If you find the light,

 

You won’t need people.

 

You’ll have the light,

 

And you’ll know peace.

 

 

 

Should you forget about people?

 

No, even though you don’t need them,

 

Remember this,

 

They might need you.

 

 

 

Live for peace.

 

Live knowing death.

 

All life dies, yet lives on.

 

Death comes and peace remains.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I hope people can make some sense of what I was saying. Sometimes I just spill my emotions onto a page and end up not sure if it's even logical.

 

I felt like writing this because in the past few years I've dwelled on the darkness I see in myself and other people - the corruption. I see so much of it that I tend to lose sight of what's good. For a while I dwelled on the darkness and felt content with hatred. I hated the human race. I wanted to watch it die because in my mind everyone, including myself, deserved it. But now I've found peace in solitude and prayer/meditation. Even though I still easily see bad things in myself and other people I've become a little more numb to them. I'm more able to highlight the good things in people. I've done this by turning not to people themselves, but to something higher, much higher. I crave solitude and time alone so that I can reflect on this, and so that I'm not so sickened by the world around me.

Train Station

A train stops 

somewhere.
Pale strangers
with hungry eyes 
and dazed  faces
gazing ,
dragging baggage 
and dusty- shoed feet
 right over left,
into the station.
 
 
Miles of 
dimly lit cavern-corridor;
the acrid city air is heavy 
with filth and hopless
prayer.
woven metal wastebaskets overflow 
yesterdays black and white news
wet;forgotten.
And ticket-stubs
torn in half 
like the curbside heart
of those bid fare well
 
shabby cloth flea market millionaires
in toothless rummage-through
almost carefully...
for tin vessel pocket change
to trade for 
bottles of wine,
or six- packs of beer.
 
Clinging to the littered walk,  
the transient liquid mass
of faceless caricatures
sweep like dust
across a glass photograph.
Starry-eyed children laugh
and talk happy things 
to a gray haired lady in a 
cat sweater.
My how youve grown.

A sharp mechanical scream
made necessary 
diversion from the hi-heeled
 woman 
flesh vendor,
hair dischevled; 
pleading for fare.

A serpet hiss as doors open and exhale  
an overdressed man with plastic hair
carrying flowers; 
greeted by his long awaited lover
and her open arms .
Transition.
Train station. 
Mysterious intention. 
Cause,  or affliction.
  The place where the journey
begins or ends.
 A travel weary heart.
castaway of a vast unknown,
or drawn back to sanctuary home.
Where love chases its 
furry phantom tail....
And
where hopes sprout
 like spring blossoms,
or wither 
like the skin of an old whore.
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